


Seldom All They Seem

by ultravioletInk (loquaciousEscapist)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sleeping Beauty, Liam/Louis friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 23:41:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loquaciousEscapist/pseuds/ultravioletInk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off tumblr user ziamc's post - Zayn is a Prince placed under an eternal slumber curse, Liam is the hastily appointed palace attendant, Harry is the son of a Duke, Louis is learning how to cook, and no one really knows how Niall came to be there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seldom All They Seem

**Author's Note:**

> Based off [this post](http://ziamc.tumblr.com/post/50345854869/can-we-seriously-just-talk-about-how-pretty-zayn), asking for a Ziam Sleeping Beauty AU. Rather than working on the two fics I already have going, I decided to do a one shot for it.  
> That didn't work out.  
> However, this'll only be two chapters, and I've already started the second, so at least I'll be able to finish it without leaving it in fanfic limbo for me to stress over.

“I got you a job.”

“Funny, I don’t actually remember asking you to do that.”

Louis merely smiled beatifically, as though he had performed this great service purely out of the goodness of his own heart. But that wasn’t how Louis _worked_ , Liam knew this, he’d been friends with Louis since he was old enough to totter after him. And if Louis had done something so big as to get him a _job_ , well, there was something he very obviously wanted.

Liam sighed. “Where is it?”

Louis leaned over the kitchen table, prompting Liam to lurch forward to save his dinner from being propelled onto the floor. “Okay, get this – you know how I was out last night? I met this guy, and we got to talking. Turns out he works at the palace! I know, right, what’re the odds?!” Liam hadn’t actually given any indication of feeling surprised – on the contrary, it wasn’t uncommon to see palace workers out and about, dressed in their violet and silver uniforms. “So, we’re talking, and he says they’re looking for new staff – kitchen boys, foot servants, you know, whatever it is palaces look for – and I said ‘I know just the guy!’, and so you were hired.”

“...And that’s it? No background checks, no, no interviews, no _anything_?” Liam asked incredulously – he couldn’t believe they’d just let _anyone_ into the palace. Louis shrugged.

“It sounds like they’re quite desperate, a lot of people have quit in the last year, something to do with the Prince’s illness? Apparently they think it’s contagious.” Louis rolled his eyes. “Magic isn’t _contagious_ ; anyone with eyes and a few brain particles could tell you that-”

“Cells,” Liam said, faintly recalling it from his somewhat mediocre education. “They’re called cells.” Louis waved his hand to shake off what he obviously considered a nuance.

“We start tomorrow. We need to meet Niall-”

“Whoa, wait, Niall? _We_?”

“Yeah, Niall’s the bloke I mentioned, he’s one of the chefs there. And yes, we, you didn’t think I’d get you a job at the palace and not think to get one for myself? You’re coming with me for moral support.” So _that_ was what this was for. Liam didn’t really mind too much, at least Louis hadn’t committed manslaughter or something.

They’d moved to the capital five years previously from their tiny village past the western borders, and currently lived in a house that was more like a shed. Louis tended to be the one to get them into situations, good or bad, and Liam sometimes felt like he Louis’s support act, there to get them _out_ of trouble. But Louis was his best friend, and he was pretty sure he’d follow him to the ends of the world.

“I can’t do this.” Except to the palace, apparently. Despite having lived in the capital for some time, he’d never been as close to the actual palace as he was the next morning. The palace was white and glowing in the sunlight, with pointed terracotta roofs and sloping teal domes stretching up high into the sky, and it so obviously screamed ‘ _Not For You!_ ’ that he was feeling a magnetic repel from the structure, and Liam kind of just wanted to go home and hide under the bed for a while.

“Think of the pay,” Louis said quietly, tugging at the silver collar of his uniform that they’d found on the doorstep that morning. “Think of the _pay_.” As Louis had not actually told him how much they were got to be paid Liam found this very difficult to do, but his confusion at least managed to get him over the drawbridge and into the courtyard, where a blonde boy in uniform and a woman were obviously waiting for them. “ _Holy shit that’s the Queen_.”

If Liam had been nervous before, now he was planning his funeral for his inevitable panic induced heart attack. The Queen was terrifyingly beautiful, with dark hair falling down her back and wise, kind eyes. But beneath the beauty was an obvious strain, a tiredness – she smiled politely at the boys, her mind obviously somewhere else.

“That one,” she said, jerking her head towards Liam, who blanched. “He can go upstairs, you can have the other.”

“You mean we won’t be working together?” Louis blurted out – Liam wondered if it would be unsubtle of him to stamp on his foot in his shiny black leather shoes.

The Queen shook her head. “We are stretched for personnel; we cannot afford to assign two new employees to the same department at the same time.” In her defence she did look apologetic, but the look quickly morphed into a scowl. “Master Styles, I asked you to be here five minutes ago.” The boy in question skidded to a halt in front of her and bent over double, panting for breath.

“Sorry, your Grace, won’t happen again.” The fondness in the Queen’s face could have quite easily been a trick of the light.

“Yes, it probably will.” She shook her head. “Never mind. The one is yours, show him the ropes.” She patted Liam gently on the shoulder. Master Styles looked up and over at Liam, and grinned. Liam grinned back, but that was mostly because he heard the slight stutter for breath coming from Louis.

“I’m Harry,” the boy said, sticking out a hand enthusiastically. “I’m Master of the Floors, which is basically a weird way of saying all the cleaners in the royal compartments report to me.” He bowed to the Queen, which Liam hastily mimicked, and gestured for Liam to follow him, leading him to a tower entrance. “I already know where I’m going to put you to work, but I’ll show you round a bit.”

Harry, it turned out, was actually the son of a nearby Duke, and was fifth in line for the throne. “Or sixth,” he said, pausing on the winding staircase and counting on his fingers. “No, wait, definitely fifth.” He started walking again. “I think. I don’t know, it’s only really important when you’re first or second in line, it all gets a bit vague after that.” He’d been sent by his father to work for the King and Queen to give him an understanding of how to run his own household when he took over the Dukedom. This was, apparently, common enough amongst the nobility. “Everyone with a position of worth here is Duke or Duchess or Lord or Lady of something or other. Oh, except for Niall, but no one really knows his story.”

“Is Niall the one Louis’s with?”

“Your cute friend? Yeah, that’s him. Apparently he just turned up one day, went to meet with the King and Queen, and came out with the position of Head Chef. Every time you ask him how he did it he just taps his nose and winks, it’s really _annoying_.”

The royal compartments started halfway up the tower Harry had led him up, and the first room they entered was the King and Queen’s receiving room, where Harry bowed low to a small wooden carving of a rose – he gestured for Liam to do the same. The next room was more intimate, and obviously the private chambers – inside, two girls were squabbling over some colour swatches. Harry coughed, and they both startled.

“Oh, it’s just you,” one of them said, sighing in relief. “Thought you were the King, he’s due back any moment from visiting upstairs.”

“El, the King would come through _that_ door,” Harry said, pointing at the door opposite them and smirking. The girl merely raised her eyebrows coldly, dignifiedly, and turned to look at Liam.

“Hello, you’re new.” It wasn’t a question, and Liam, unsure of how to respond, did an odd squiggly shrug.

“Liam Payne,” he said, not sure whether he should shake her hand or bow to her, in light of what Harry had just told him about the incognito nobility. She solved his uncertainty by laughing raucously and sticking out her hand.

“Relax, Liam, I’m not the one you need to be bowing to, that’s her-” she jerked her thumb at the other girl, who raised her eyebrows. “I’m Eleanor Calder, a lowly peasant girl who rose high in the palace ranks.”

“I doubt your mother, the Duchess of the Farlands, would be pleased to hear this,” her companion said wryly. Eleanor scowled.

“Way to ruin the fun, _Princess Danielle of the Eastern Sea_ ,” she sing-songed. “So, Liam Payne, here for anything interesting?”

“I, uh, don’t know. Master Styles hasn’t told me what I’m doing yet, Ma’am.”

Eleanor and Harry shuddered. “Lay off the titles, Ma’am is my _mother_. Just Eleanor, please.”

“Yeah, none of this ‘Master’ crap, either.” Harry took out an hourglass from his pocket. “Well, if the King’s upstairs, I don’t really want to disturb him, we’ll come back later.”

“They’re not _technically_ servants here,” Harry said to Liam, shutting the door behind him and heading back down the stairs. “They were here for other things originally, but they liked it so much here that they decided to stay on after their visits, so they help me out with my duties.” He paused. “Actually, I’ll take you up to your room – we assumed you’d want to room with your friend?”

“Uh, we actually have a house in the capital,” Liam said apologetically; Harry waved a hand.

“Doesn’t matter. The Queen likes all the servants close at hand, so she provides accommodation for them all.” He turned round and headed back up the stairs, through the private compartments again, and up even more stairs, with the staircase getting tighter and tighter with each rotation. It continued on past a door that they stopped at. “This is your room. It’s a little out the way for your friend, but it’ll be perfect for you.” He opened the door – the room was bigger than their house had been, with white bunk beds against the wall, dark wooden floors and breezy, gauzy curtains gently fluttering against the window. “This used to be the nursery.” Which explained the huge jungle mural on one of the walls. “That door there goes directly down to the courtyard, so you don’t always have to trudge through the King and Queen’s bedroom.” There was a knock on the door.

“Master Styles, are you decent?” Harry flushed a brilliant red.

“That was _one_ time...” he muttered, walking towards the door and opening it. “Your Majesty,” he bowed low, and Liam dropped to one knee too.

“Ah, is this the new servant? Excellent, excellent. What’s your name, boy?” Liam looked up – the King was looking at him kindly.

“Liam, Your Majesty. Liam Payne.”

The King nodded, as though his name pleased him greatly. “I’ll leave you to get on with it then, Master Styles.” The two boys bowed again, and the King left in a swish of purple velvet and white fur.

Harry led Liam up the stairs again, Liam following behind more cautiously – the stairs didn’t really look stable, and obviously weren’t maintained as well as the royal compartments below. At the end of the winding staircase was a single door, which harry knocked on smartly. No one answered.

“That means we can go in,” Harry said, pulling out a set of keys from his uniform pocket. “If a bell answers, don’t go in. That’s your one rule, alright? Don’t go in.”

“Seems simple enough,” Liam said, shrugging. Once Harry had opened the door, he pulled the key off the ring and passed it to Liam.

“Don’t lose that, either. I mean, that’s not a rule per se, but it’d be a pain in the arse to get a new key made for a lock this old, so just don’t lose it and we’ll be fine. This” he waved his arm “is your domain, so you’re responsible for that key, and for what’s beyond this door.” Harry, who had been cheerful and bright thus far, suddenly looked serious. “I need to ask you if you intend to take the job, I can’t let you in until I have your word.” Liam nodded – Harry pushed the door open.

The room inside was dark and dank, but Liam could clearly see that it was dominated by a giant bed, with violet curtains the same colour as the uniforms. The rest of the room was non-descript and dusty. What was most remarkable about the room, though, was the boy asleep on the bed. It wasn’t that he was sleeping soundly in such horrendous quarters, it was the fact that he existed at all – his beauty made Liam think of magic.

“That is our Prince Zayn,” Harry said quietly, stepping into the room lightly. “You’ll be tending to him.”

“M-me? I don’t know anything about medicine, what can-”

“Medicine won’t help him,” Harry said sadly, looking at the boy on the bed fondly. “He’s been like this since his sixteenth birthday, almost four years. Magic,” he said. “On his sixteenth birthday, nobility and fairies from across the seas came to celebrate, but the King and Queen, I don’t know, forgot to invite one? And she turned up, really pissy, and cursed Zayn to eternal slumber.”

“So that’s... That’s it? He’s just going to sleep here? Forever?”

Harry shrugged. “We don’t know. After she left in her evil cloud, this light filled the room, and this voice said all malevolent curses can be broken with the power of true love’s kiss.” He laughed bitterly. “Obviously it’s a bit hard to meet your true love when you’re asleep, so he sleeps up here, and women from around the world come to see if they’re the True Love.” Harry sat on the stone floor, and Liam was struck by how _young_ he looked – if he had to hazard a guess, he’d say Harry was younger than him. “It’s been harder, recently. There’s not many credentials for working for a family with a doomed son, so loads of people have been quitting. The castle’s falling into disrepair,” he gestured around their surroundings. “I’ve been trying to ten to the Prince, but I have to be in six places at once at the moment, so that’s why _you’re_ here.” He looked up. “All you have to do is tend to the Prince. That’s it. We’ll pay you well.” Maybe it was how vulnerable Harry looked, or how sweet the Prince seemed, sleeping peacefully, but Liam nodded fervently.

“It’d be an honour to serve the Prince.”

***

“You lucky _bastard_!” Louis crowed, swinging his beer around and cheerfully slipping most of it down himself. “I ended up in the kitchens, I’ve never been near a stove in my life, look at my _hands_!” He held up his hands mournfully, which were red raw. “It’s fun, though, chopping at stuff. I grated a carrot and everything!”

They were in the castle kitchens – Niall had offered them a drink after the end of their first day. All Liam had done was follow Harry around the castle to get his bearings, so he felt pretty guilty that Louis was obviously knackered.

“I don’t think he’s that lucky,” Niall said thoughtfully, wiping down a knife the length of Liam’s forearm. “No offense, mate, but it’s _dark_ up there, it’s like a little hovel.” Niall shuddered. “Much prefer it down here, least there’s heat in the winter. Okay, I might roast in the summer, but at least I get to see daylight.”

“Say, Niall,” Liam said curiously a few moments later. Louis was blowing bubbles into his beer. “There’s this rose in the Kind and Queen’s compartments-”

“Didn’t Harry tell you? Honestly, he’s proper shit at this. Did he at _least_ tell you about the Fairy of Bad Tempers and her Curse of Evil?” Liam frowned, hearing the capitalisation in his head.

“Yeah, he mentioned it.”

“And did he ‘ _mention_ ’ true love’s kiss?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that rose appeared at the end of the benevolent magic – it’s to warn the King and Queen when the true love is near, it’ll turn into a living rose as it gets closer.”

Louis squinted at Niall, beer dripping down his chin. “How do _you_ know that?”

“I’m the Head Chef, it’s my job to know everything that goes on in this castle because, as I said, Harry’s shit at it.” He tilted his head contemplatively. “Who knows, maybe Harry’ll be better at his job now he’s not got to spend every waking moment up in that tower with the Prince.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Louis said loudly, shaking his head. “You _tend_ to the Prince, does that mean you have to, like, wash him and clothe him and wipe his-”

“Louis, fucking hell, that’s the _Prince_ you’re talking about!” Niall said, covering his mouth with his hand.

“And no, in answer to your question,” Liam said, glaring. “The magic put him in some kind of suspended animation – he still ages and stuff, but it keeps him clean.”

Louis nodded sagely. “Thank fuck for that.”

“Right, well, it’s pretty late, and you two’ll be rushed off your feet tomorrow, so I suggest you go home.”

Liam felt like his head had barely hit the pillow before a loud horn blared through the courtyard and up into his window – Louis fell out of the bottom bunk in alarm.

“Is that a permanent thing?!” Louis screeched, clutching his head. “Make it stop, make it-” It stopped for a blessed moment and then picked up again, just as loud and just as grating.

It did its intended job – by the time it finally finished for good, Liam wasn’t even contemplating going back to sleep, and had already washed and dressed for the day.

“I need to go,” Louis said, pulling on an apron and cap. “Niall’s teaching me to make eggs.”

“Make them how?”

Louis looked miserable. “There’s more than one way to make eggs? Fuck’s sake.” He stormed out of the back door while Liam left through the front at a more sedate pace. Harry had told him the other day that it didn’t really matter when he started, just as long as he spent a decent amount of time with the Prince each day.

It wasn’t until he shut the Prince’s door behind him that he realised he had no idea what he needed to do. As he’d explained to Louis, the Prince was already permanently clean and dressed, he didn’t need to eat or drink – how else was Liam supposed to tend to him?

He surveyed the room, hands on his hips, and tried to imagine what his mother would do in this situation. She was a cleaner, so the only thing he could really think of was cleaning – but it was a decent enough place to start.

Harry had told him the day before, during his tour, that if he needed anything he just had to ring the relevant bell on the wall, which would ring an identical bell in the corresponding room; Liam hadn’t realised just how many bells there would be. ‘Styles’, ‘Royal Compartments’, ‘Kitchens’, ‘Halls’, ‘Barracks’... Dozens and dozens of bells hung neatly on the furthest wall, and as none of them was conveniently labelled ‘Cleaning Products’, Liam just pulled the one that said ‘Styles’ in the hope that Harry would be able to help. Harry was obviously nearby, as he arrived within moments.

“What’s the problem?”

“Can you get me some stuff? Or, I don’t know, tell me where I can get it myself?”

Harry shrugged. “I’ll go, I don’t need to start doing anything till half seven anyway.”

“Uh, I need... Some cloths, lots of water, some way to _heat_ the water, buckets, a mop, a brush, cleaning products... That should do to start with.”

“Why?” Harry looked genuinely perplexed, as though the notion of cleaning the poor Prince’s room had never occurred to him.

“Because it is really, really gross in here.”

Harry shrugged. “Whatever you need, mate.”

He was back in about fifteen minutes, Danielle in tow.

“It’s nice to finally have someone around that understands the importance of _cleaning_ ,” Danielle said, smiling brightly as she propped the mop and the broom up against the wall. “I tried to do some in here myself, but the Chief Maid almost had a coronary when she saw me cleaning, she threatened to write to my mother if she caught me doing it again.”

The two of them left quickly, obviously needing to do other things around the castle, leaving Liam alone to plan his course of action. Although his mother had always said to start cleaning from the top and work your way down, it would be pretty difficult to do so when he could barely see, so he decided to start by tackling the window.

It had very obviously not been touched in years – Liam ran his fingernail through the grime, shuddering when it was practically scooped out and under his nail, and then grimacing in satisfaction at the thin streak of sunlight that pierced through. Danielle had obviously known this would happen, because she’d provided a kitchen spatula for him to scrape away the worst of the grime, and someone had also included vinegar and the previous day’s newspaper for him to clean the window with.

It took him almost an hour to clean the window to the point where his mother would have nodded grudgingly at its standard, and all it succeeded in doing was making the room look even worse than it had in the dark. The darkness had led a romantic quality to the colours and saturations – the natural daylight showed off to full relief how everything was covered in dust and dirt, and there was a cobweb in the corner the size of a small child.

He started by using the brush on the ceiling, squealing in terror when he dislodged a small stone that released a rainstorm of spiders down into the room, which he spent the next five minutes chasing out of the window he had to jimmy open. Using one of the upturned buckets to stand on he began soaping down the smooth marble walls, watching is the grimy soap streaks washed away to reveal white rather than grey stone.

Next, Liam pulled down the curtains, both the ones around the bed and on the window, heavy and thick in comparison to the ones in his own room, and soaked them through with soapy water. He rung them out of the window, wincing when he heard someone shriek indignantly below. The curtains were actually more vivid than the uniforms, closer to red than the blue-toned uniforms.

Louis came up four hours later, balancing a plate of sandwiches in one hand and a pitcher of juice in the other. Liam looked up from where he was ringing the mop out.

“Niall was getting worried when you didn’t ring down for any lunch, I – blimey, you’re grey.” Liam looked down at himself – he was absolutely _caked_ in grime and dust.

“Yeah, cleaning.” Louis toed off his shoes, despite the fact that Liam hadn’t actually started mopping the floor

“I can see that.” He glanced at the Prince, who was breathing quietly. “Is that him?”

“Yeah.”

“Looks like the Queen. To be fair I haven’t actually _seen_ the King yet, but he looks like her.” Liam nodded, looking over at the Prince again. He’d tried to avoid looking at the Prince, to be honest, because every time he did he felt this weird lurch in his chest that made him think of long horse and carriage journeys. “Well, I need to get going, lots to do. What’re you going to do when you’re done?” Liam shrugged.

“I’ll ask Harry.” He grinned at Louis. “Maybe you should stick around, catch a glimpse of him.”

“Why would I _want_ to catch a glimpse of him?” Louis said haughtily, sticking his nose up into the air.

“Sure, Lou.” Liam rang the Styles bell again, and immediately heard footsteps coming up the stairs – Louis fled, prompting a laugh from Liam.

“What?” Harry said, poking his head in a moment later.

“Did you see Louis at all on your way up?” Liam asked politely, stifling a grin; Harry shook his head confusedly. “Never mind, then. I had a question – what did you do with the Prince to tend to him?”

“Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t.”

“Talked to him, mainly. I don’t know, I just don’t like the thought that he’s actually conscious in there, you know? Must be really dull, lying flat on your back all day, so I tried to keep him entertained. You don’t have to do that, though, just sit with him if you want, make sure he doesn’t roll out of bed and hurt himself.” A bell rang from his pocket, and he dashed off. Liam propped the mop up and began sweeping under the bed.

His broom knocked into something wooden, so he lay flat on the floor and groped underneath the bed, pulling out a box of books. The box wasn’t sealed shut, or even remotely closed, so he only felt a little bit guilty at glancing through them. Perhaps they were the Prince’s books? Liam didn’t read much, really, but maybe he could read the books under the bed to him?

He picked up the first book in the box, resolving to continue mopping after entertaining the Prince a bit. It was a small enough book called ‘The Princess Bride’ – if questioned, he’d never have guessed the Prince owned a book by such a name, much less kept it under his bed, but he decided to read a few pages of it.

“ _This is my favourite book in all the world, though I have never read it._ ” Liam paused and reread the line again, once in his head and then once out loud, in case he had misinterpreted it. “No, I read that right, what, it doesn’t even make any sense!”

It was, without shadow of a doubt, the worst reading aloud of anything written in the history of humanity. Liam was not the kind of person to take a story as it came – he questioned every line and plot point, even the ones that were resolved within the same page. As such, it took him a while to get through the opening introduction, and by the time he got to the page marked ‘Chapter One – The Bride’, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to continue reading. The book was pretty strange, and it definitely wasn’t for him – but at the end of the day, he wasn’t here for him, he was here for the Prince.

Eventually, several painstaking hours later, when the sun had set and the moon was already high in the sky, Liam finished the book.

“I can see why you’d like it,” he said, looking over at the Prince. “Assuming this is yours. It’s pretty good, not like I thought it’d be.” He looked over at the mop, which had long since dried and stiffened from the soap. “Eh, I’ll do that tomorrow.”

***

Their seventh morning started in much the same fashion as their first.

“I’m going to be one giant bruise by the end of the week,” Louis grumbled, rubbing his side. There was a knock on the door, and Liam shuffled over to answer it.

“Liam!” Harry said cheerfully. “Excellent, you’re up. Morning, Louis!” Liam didn’t even have to turn round to know that Louis was doing his wide eyed, rabbit-caught-in-the-headlights stare. “I’ve got a job for you, Li, get dressed, I’ll meet you in the Grand Hall.”

The Grand Hall was in the very centre of the Palace, and was generally where guests to the castle were received. Harry had taken him there on their first day, and to combat his feeling of ‘out-of-place’ Liam had nodded wisely and said “Nice support beams” which, naturally, had made Harry think that Liam actually knew something about architecture besides what he was pulling out of his arse, and had given him a half an hour lecture on the structural support of the castle. But the Grand Hall was a beautiful room, with shining cream floors, a red carpet leading up to three thrones, and stained glass windows adorning the wall directly behind the thrones. And, yes, nice support beams.

When Liam got downstairs to meet with Harry, he was in earnest conversation with a blonde haired girl in a pink dress, who was nodding sincerely – he waved Liam over when he spotted him.

“Your Grace, this is Liam Payne, the Prince’s attendant. Liam, this is Princess Perrie of the Iced Mountains.” Harry had forewarned Liam that Princesses came to attempt to awaken the Prince, but he hadn’t expected them to be so beautiful. He bowed low to her.

“It’s a pleasure,” she said warmly. “Master Styles tells me you’re new to the palace too?”

“I’ve been here for a week, Your Grace,” Liam said, rising – the princess smiled.

“And have you been enjoying your time here thus far?” Liam nodded. “That’s reassuring. I’m very far from home, you see, and I’m already homesick.” She turned back to Harry. “We’re right in the middle of the snows back at home, so wearing summer dress is very jarring for me.”

“That’s a winter dress,” Harry pointed out good-naturedly; the princess grinned.

“Maybe for you. We wear these at the height of our summers.”

“Perrieeeeeeeeee!” Eleanor came hurtling into the room. “Why didn’t you write and tell us you were coming?”

“I didn’t know until the other day!” They started talking excitedly, and Harry pulled Liam to the side.

“Could you make sure it’s tidy up there? I know you cleaned it last week, but she’ll be going up to see him in a bit, and-”

“No problem,” Liam said. “What happens then? Does she just plant one on him, or...”

“There’s loads of ceremony we have to go through,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “Both before and after. We have to have a ball tonight to welcome her to the capital, and then she has her _official_ first visit tomorrow, and they have to do all sorts of genealogy tests before she gets to kiss him, it’ll probably take about a week. But it’ll all be worth it, this time,” he said, grinning confidently.

“Why’s that?”

“Haven’t you seen?” Liam shrugged confusedly, and Harry turned to the girls. “Princess, Duchess, I’ll be taking my leave, and I’ll be bringing Mister Payne with me – please call if you require anything.” Perrie nodded, and Eleanor snorted and waved him off.

Harry took him up to the royal receiving rooms, where everything was in complete disarray – servants running every which way with cleaning supplies, food – and, at the centre of the chaos, Niall was hunched over protectively, scowling at everyone who got too close.

“Niall? Mate, this isn’t the kitchens,” Harry said confusedly, weaving under two servants carrying a rolled up tapestry to beat clean outside.

“I know,” Niall fumed. “I had to leave Louis down there, on his own, with about six separate ways he can set fire to the castle and everyone in it, but I need to make sure this doesn’t get broken.” He uncurled – he was protecting the wooden rose, which –

“Wow, looks cooler than when I saw it,” Harry said appreciatively, bending over to look at the rose in Niall’s hands. Liam raised his eyebrows – what had been a plain wooden rose only a week ago now looked as though the wood had been stained with delicate pinks and greens. Even as they watched, the rose was getting perceptibly more and more vivid.

“It’ll get better, too,” Niall said cheerfully. “As long as it doesn’t get trodden on by some klutz of a servant. _Watch where you’re waving that fackin thing!_ ” He yelled at a young maid carrying a broom, who tossed her hair angrily and stormed off.

“Can’t the King and Queen put it in a safe place?” Harry asked.

Niall shook his head. “It needs to be in the public eye, so its change doesn’t get ‘missed’.” He sighed. “Stupid rule, you’re not gonna miss the arrival of true love, you don’t need some rose to tell you that, it just gives them some forewarning. Hey, Li, you’ve been pretty quiet.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, just tired, I guess.” Liam shrugged. “I think I’ll go get started on my work and have an early night.”

“No, you can’t do that!” Harry said wildly, waving his arms to a cacophony of distraught yelling from Niall who, in his haste to protect the rose, had ended up getting whacked in the face. “The ball’s tonight, you need to come!”

“Why?” Liam said confusedly. “I’m just the Prince’s attendant.”

“Everyone’s welcome,” Niall put in, shrugging. “I’m going. Harry wants you to go because then Louis will have no excuse _not_ to come.”

Harry shrugged unapologetically.

***

“No,” Louis said when Liam ran down to the kitchens when Harry had let him go. “Absolutely not.”

“Lou, it’s just a ball,” Liam said. “It’s obvious you _like_ this guy, just-”

“Even if I _did_ ,” Louis said abruptly, pointing a knife at Liam. “Which I _don’t_ , there are several things wrong with this – number one, he is the son of some big shot duke, while I have only just learned the difference between a bread knife and a butter knife. Number two, what would we _wear_ to one of these fancy shindigs, our work uniform?”

“Harry’s got it covered.”

“Of course he has,” Louis muttered mutinously.

“Come on, Lou, it’ll be a laugh,” Liam wheedled. He wasn’t too excited to go himself, but he did quite like the idea of Harry and Louis getting to know each other on better terms than they were currently at.

“Definitely not. Go and do your job, Payne.”

But besides a quick sweep of the Prince’s room, there wasn’t a lot he _could_ do – he sat down on the very edge of the bed and stared out of the window.

Maybe it was because he wasn’t really paying attention, or maybe it was because he didn’t listen to people’s breathing often, but it took Liam a while to realise the Prince’s breathing was slightly wheezier than normal, as though he had the beginnings of a cold – he put his hand on the Prince’s head, but couldn’t really tell if there was any difference. His mother had always told him that the best way to check someone’s temperature was with your lips, so he didn’t think twice of pressing his lips to the Prince’s forehead – he did feel a bit warm, but nothing overwhelmingly dangerous.

“I’ve just realised,” Liam said aloud with a laugh. “I just kissed you, and you don’t even know my name.” A small part of him was aware that he was talking to a person that had barely shown a sign of life since he’d arrived, but the majority of him just wanted the Prince to wake up and talk _back_. “I’m Liam, Liam Payne, your attendant. Hopefully you’re going to wake up soon – a Princess came today, everyone thinks she’s the one. She’s really nice,” Liam finished lamely, unsure of what to say to a guy that was apparently about to wake up and meet his true love for the first time. What if he didn’t like her, or she him?

‘ _Ridiculous_ ,’ Liam thought to himself. ‘ _The whole point of ‘true love’ is they have to like each other somewhat_.’

He talked aloud to Zayn for a while, and then wandered off to get ready for the ball – Harry had left two outfits for the night on the bottom bunk, and Louis was already attempting to pull the tights on of one of them – he fell over in surprise when Liam walked into their room.

“Don’t,” he said dangerously, pointing his finger at Liam. “Don’t you dare say anything.”

“I think that’s supposed to be a hat,” Liam said blithely, pointing to the hat residing on Louis’s tight clad foot.

“What did I just say?” Louis said furiously, jamming the hat on his head, the feather slightly lopsided. “I feel stupid.”

“Well, at least we’ll look stupid together,” Liam said consolingly, eyeing his own outfit, something blue and _velvet_ , with distaste. “I’ve never worn a cloak in my life, I’m going to fall over.”

“I hate wearing stuff on my feet that isn’t just a shoe,” Louis said, yanking his tights up to his hips. “Why can’t we just wear trousers and a tunic like _normal_ people?”

They arrived early, early enough to find a quiet corner to sit in and eye the proceedings with a critical eye. The King and the Queen, dressed in outfits Liam couldn’t even _dream_ of wearing, arrived last, and both made a long speech about the reason behind the ball – Liam couldn’t help but think the speech sounded worn out, as though they’d made it many times before. No one else seemed to notice – most were excited for the prospect of the Prince waking up, and the rest were just happy to have a ball.

Princess Perrie was the centre of attention, and quite rightly so – not only was she beautiful, she was kind and caring, making a point of coming over to Liam and saying hello.

“You’re the only person I know here, besides Harry, Eleanor, and Danielle,” she whispered confidingly, taking a sip of wine. “But everyone knows me. It’s very strange. I’m sorry, we haven’t met, I’m Perrie.” She held out a hand for Louis, who shook it.

“Louis, of the estate Tomlinson.” He bowed to her, and Perrie laughed delightedly.

“I shall be sure to keep your family name in mind, Louis Tomlinson.” She sighed. “I should go and socialise, apparently some _very_ important people have travelled _very_ far to see me.” She rolled her eyes and glided off – Louis nodded approvingly.

“I like her,” he said. “Hope she stays.”

“Hope who stays?” Harry sat down next to Liam and smiled at Louis.

“The Princess,” Liam said, when it became apparent that Louis either could not or would not form words.

“Yes, she’s lovely, isn’t she?” Harry said, flicking Louis a faintly hurt look. “I was just saying to Niall-”

But what Harry was just saying to Niall, Liam never found out, because at that moment the door burst open, and the figure in the doorway made everyone draw to a halt – the orchestra trailed off, and a lone note played through the hall.

“Will someone tell me,” Prince Zayn said shakily, eyes wide and hands gripping the door frame. “What the _fuck_ is going on?”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, reviews, notes, messages in bottles etc. are accepted with open and eager arms.


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